


Imperial Entanglements

by SecretScrimshander (SecretSandbar)



Series: Entanglementsverse [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ashdom, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Ashendom, Consensual spanking, F/F, F/M, Fleet AU, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Multi, PWP, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pale-Red Vacillation, Tentabulges, This has a ton of porn, We Hit Every Quadrant Along The Way, but i swear there is plot too, consensual voyeurism, except Pitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretSandbar/pseuds/SecretScrimshander
Summary: Karkat Vantas is a highly trained officer in the Alternian Navy. Skylla Koriga is his 'been there, done that' attache. When someone starts murdering Jadebloods, they're the only ones that the Empress can trust to get the job done right.There's only one problem.Her Imperious Condescension Meenah Peixes thinks they're both adorable.





	1. ==>Be Karkat Vantas, Infodump Extraordinaire

The room was a sweltering mess.

It was the Highbloods, he decided. Coldblooded snakes, every fucking one of them. Though in this case, thought Karkat Vantas, the comparison was a literal one, rather than annoyed hyperbole. This temperature was probably the epitome of a fucking day spa for anything Jade and above. Any lowblood discomfort (which he was feeling now, thank you very much.) was as much by design as it was an accident. It wouldn't do for the masses to be at ease among their betters, yadda yadda yadda.

Karkat continued to glare at the cheerfully glowing thermostat, marking temperatures around the 110 degree mark, using human Farenheit. That concession in itself was the epitome of stupidity, since this was an Alternian ship, which hadn't seen a human in sweeps. Still, when it came to internal starship systems, the humans knew their shit, at least enough for the highbloods to justify moving production offworld, and out of rust-mustard shipyards. Karkat grimaced. Lowbloods still built the keels and such. The hulls and massive starship frames were still Alternian built to Alternian specs. You could teach a human a lot, but it seemed that interior design in intelligent, well reasoned styles still eluded them.

Karkat could only marvel at the bulk and lethality of Alternian Dreadnoughts. They were beautiful, if one found massive, candy red battleships spattered in every color beautiful. Karkat did, though that was more out of put out, grudging self preservation than anything. More than one of the clergy wanted a smear of candy red on candy red to grace his ship, and he was pretty sure genetic material would not suffice. Karkat quickly made the sign of the Messiahs at that. Blaspheming on a ship of the Fleet was not exactly conducive to a long and pleasant existence. Short and exciting? Yes. Long and pleasant? Not on your life.

Whoever had designed the ships of the Fleet certainly did have a sense of dramatic style. They were imposing, both from above, where the full span of weapons batteries was apparent, and from below, where the giant white Pisces was picked out of candy red. Karkat put a hand to his chest, feeling his own symbol there, picked out in gold thread atop his white uniform jacket. He'd been Signless for a few sweeps there, while it got really dicey, and the Church had declared the sign of "Cancer" heretical. Then he'd picked up a new sign, and things had gotten a lot better. That had a tendency to happen when your new sign was Pisces, and it came with Imperial Patronage. It had been the most terrifying moment of his life. The Empress was huge. She was even bigger than the Grand Highblood, who stood next to her in full warpaint. He'd been unable to stop shaking, and thank the Messiahs, she'd seemed to find it more amusing than "anyfin," and he'd even managed to not scream when the current Grand Highblood had revealed his strife specibus to be needlekind.

Only Karkat could feel the slightly different texture of the skin where he was tattooed, a Pisces picked out in fuchsia ink, set exactly where the gold symbol sparkled on his uniform. He'd been informed he was converting, then. The Church was going to offer a "motherfucking mercy" to a "mutantblooded little shit." Karkat didn't even begin to question that. He was a bit weirded out, sure, but he also didn't make a habit of looking the gifthoofbeast in the mouth, especially with ten inch needles that close to his body.

One terrifying stint in Seminary School, and another training to be an officer, and Karkat had become something of a tall tale in the Alternian Navy. He was a mutant, they whispered, trained as both an Imperial Captain of the Fleet and a Chaplain. In the Alternia based Fleet Garrison, he was a legend. Ferocious, talented both as a strategist and religious speaker, (which wasn't hard. he'd aced that class, at least. He'd made top marks in 'Holy Exclamations 1.' 'Motherfucker' was an old friend, and it had shown.)

In the Church Fleet, where he was serving now, he was....less so. For the most part, everyone but the High Officials of the Church respected him as a graduate of Seminary and as an Imperial charity case. However, that meant precious little when you were the only non Purpleblooded Officer in the entire Church Fleet. If it weren't for Church politics and a very conspicuous tattoo, he'd have been paint by now. He had a few of the Church Elders in his corner, and the Apostle and the Missionary were very keen to have him as a symbol that "even the lowest of the low can serve the Messiahs." As pleasantly dehumanizing as that was, it was at least better than the Reticent and the Flagellant, who saw him as a threat to the Church and a harbinger of schism and new doctrine.

Which, as it was, brought him back to the present. It brought him back to his slap in the fucking face 'Junior Chaplain' assignment, and it brought him to the knock at the door. Finally. His meeting was here. Just this last one, and then he could go back to his 'block, get out of this damn uniform, and go the fuck to sleep. Then the door hissed open, and his day got about thirty thousand times more complicated in the span of one word.

"Crabcake!" a violently plush voice cracked out, the subharmonics of psionic power buzzing just out of conscious ear shot. At least, he thought, with just a touch of pettiness, still looking just a bit 'shell' shocked, she sounded happy to 'sea' him. Her Imperious Condescension, had decided to pay a visit, and Karkat stood very still as strands of raw power lifted him up, letting the massive troll monarch survey her "shella rad officer." She knelt, head still almost brushing the top of the door frame. He blinked, her flowing hair still moving like it was underwater.

"I can not be-reef how lame this ship is," she started without any preamble "You doin' anyfin right now?"

There were some people in the world you could argue with. Her Imperiousness was not one of those people, and they both knew it. He "wasn't doing anything" for as long as it benefited her Imperial Person, and they both knew it.

"Any-ray," she plowed on "I need you to do somefin for me. Pack your bags, Crabcake. You're comin' with me."

He couldn't really do anything but nod, and keyed the wrist communicator that he wore, ringing his attache. He gave the the mercifully professional bronze blood her orders, (he smirked at that. Her blood color had been a concession to his 'mutant' status, and Messiah's knew if he was nervous, she must be shaking in her goddamn cowboy boots.) and gestured for the Empress to preceed him back into the corridor and its much higher ceiling. Whenever he interacted with the Empress, Karkat was always stunned by her informal approach to...everything, essentially. It explained why he was technically on a first name basis with the literally divine monarch of his species, but it also made talking to her about anything but what she wanted to talk about an exercise in frustration, and judging by her flippant smile just now, she knew it, and knew that it pissed him off.

He'd find out what she had in mind for him exactly when she wanted him to, and not a millisecond sooner. It was annoying and petty, yes, but also brutally calculated for maximum discomfort. Just like she read his mind, the Empress shot him a toothy grin, and he nodded to her. Realistically, she had been actually reading his mind, but was too polite to say anything.

"You and your little bronze friend are going to do a job for me, Crabcake, now quit your coddamn worrying and keep up."

She wasn't really snapping at _him_. Regardless, 'obviously testy' was not a mood he wanted the Empress in, thank you very fucking much. He picked up the pace accordingly. It didn't do the make person who could swat you through the bulkhead with her mind anything even approaching mad. Together, they boarded a lift, mercifully sized for the behemoths that adult purples grew to be, and the sharp toe of her shoes tapped an impatient staccato on the deck. She didn't say much, but the crackling tinnitus that close proximity to a pissed off Tyrian tended to leave him with subsided from Karkat's ears as they actually reached the docking bay.

Docking Bay 413 was the smallest of its four hundred and nineteen fellows that made up the Alternian Church Dreadnought Command Tilt-A-Whirl. It was also the most heavily defended, at least at the moment. 413 was where VIP ships docked, and there were exactly two ships there now. One was the Captain's shuttle, which was cinched down to it's mooring tightly. The second was the shuttle which had carried the Empress to this ship. It was swarmed by purple blooded techs, going through every possible pre flight checkup in the book. Skylla was there with his bags, the white jumpsuit of the Alternian Attache Association proclaiming her a member of his staff.

The purples that otherwise crewed the ship wore their colors, of course, even in the military. Their colors, that is, and the colors of whoever had happened to splatter during any previous boarding actions they'd participated in. The high ranking Church officials on board were so colorful that someone of them hurt to look at for too long.

The Empress rolled her eyes, clapping him on the shoulder so hard that he almost fell. "Can you keep it down in there?" she said, rapping his head gently with her knuckles. "I don't know when you turned into Captain Karkat Vantas, novelist and info dumper." He nodded, doing his best not too think too loudly and invite additional reprimand.

"good buoy," she said, absently ruffling his hair with one of her massive hands.

A few more minutes passed, and they joined Skylla in watching the final preparations. To her credit, it seemed like the bronzeblood was thinking happy thoughts, or at least not attracting attention to herself. She looked sharp, and the bronze bolo tie that was her only concession to her own blood color was immaculate. She smiled at him, but mostly kept her eyes carefully forward, and her brain carefully blank. Being a diplomat must impart much the same sort of training that an officer of the Navy went through.

Finally, the leader of the purpleblooded mechanics joined them as well, delivering a clipped report and vanishing as quickly as he came. The Empress suddenly surged forward, heading for her ship. Her obvious impatience left both Karkat and Skylla trailing in her wake, jogging to keep up with her much longer strides. Karkat packed light, which was a good thing, as Skylla barely had his carryall inside the hatch before the Empress shut it.

What Karkat had thought of as a bit testy earlier was showing it's true colors now, and he marveled at her ability to keep what was now extremely obvious fury as politely under wraps while she was in public.

"Sit down, Vantas" she snapped, and he sat in the seat next to her without conscious knowledge of the motion. The command was tinged with just a hint of her psionic power, but in these close confines it even bled out to his attache, and she sat as well, eyes snapping to the Empress on their own accord.

"Some motherfucker," she started, eyes actually glowing "decided he didn't want to go on living."

The atmosphere in the shuttle was cold and tense, and Karkat waited to hear what unlucky son of a bitch had her this mad. Her tone softened just a bit, and she patted his head again, the gesture very possessive.

"Any-ray, some idiot offed my personally appointed Jadeblood in the brooding caverns."

Behind him, Karkat could feel Skylla stiffen in shock.

"Dontcha worry kiddo,"

The Empress said, acknowledging his attache for the first time.

"he got himself a terminal case of Subjuggulation."

Even Karkat winced at that, remembering the noises that one learned to carefully ignore during finals week for the Subbjuggulators.

"I decided that her replacement needed something a little more concrete than the promise of Imperial Displeasure, since apparently that doesn't fuckin' work."

She shrugged, and the cavelier gesture lowered the ambient temperature perceptibly.

"I got Subbjugulators and Threshies working on finding any more of the terroristic bastards, but until they give me a clean bill of health for the region, I'm putting it under full martial law."

Karkat nodded, partly in understanding, partly in agreement. Materialism and blatant favoritism toward the Highbloods aside, she was the Immortal God Empress of Trollkind, and any appearance of flippancy was simply the product of the vast time scale she had to work with. Anybody that forgot that, (like the poor sap who'd managed to earn her displeasure now) wound up dead or worse.

"Just so I'm shore you catch my drift, Crabcake, you're in charge down there till I get back."

Karkat stared at her for a moment, then managed to sputter out a heartfelt

"Holy fuck."

She threw her head back and laughed, no trace of the cold, angry monarch showing through at all.

"Watch your fucking language, buoy." she snapped with mock severity.

She looked at him fondly, her seat at least twice as big as his own, and gestured for him to follow her back into the elegant leisure room that her shuttle boasted in lieu of passenger space. What he assumed was a quick mental tug had Skylla trailing along behind them, and the Bronzeblood stepped over to the bar without being asked. Drink in hand, Her Imperious Condescension looked almost lazy, lounging on a sofa built to her own massive scale.

She didn't have much to say, but between the two of them, Karkat and Skylla had been thoroughly reminded of her formidable psionic powers as they were gently nudged this way and that, completing various tasks without even realizing that they were doing them until they were almost complete. As much as it seemed strange to say, Karkat was used to it.

He'd been plaything of the Empress long enough that he hardly jumped at all when he suddenly found himself halfway through mixing a drink, polishing a glass, or at least once, painting the Empress' finger nails. It was coercive, but it was also an extension of who she was, and Karkat felt that he knew her pretty well.

The Empress was condescending (uh...duh?) lazy, and just a bit petulant. She was also immortal, a horrifyingly powerful psionic, and used to getting what she wanted. It was almost shorthand in a way. She could have ordered either one of them to do the things they were doing, and they'd have obeyed without question. In a gesture that seemed strangely unnecessary for an immortal, she was saving time.

That made about as much sense as tying one's own bulge into a knot, so it had to be something else. As he suddenly came back to himself in the pantry, preparing what seemed to be a meal more suited to the palettes of trolls like himself or Skylla, he thought he might have it figured out. It was a control thing. A way for her to say to him and anyone like him 'look, look at how easily I can make you jump.' It was almost a reminder of who was in charge. Karkat looked down at the tray he suddenly found himself to be lifting, and gave a mental shrug. It didn't much matter, really. He'd do what she asked anyway, simply by virtue of gratitude mixed with a healthy dose of self preservation. Back in the main room, Karkat saw Skylla moving with the same dreamlike precision he would be if he let himself fall back into the low rippling of psionics ringing in the back of his skull.

The Empress looked at him, all smiles and patience. She patted the cushion beside her, gesturing for him to scale the plush futon. He did, nearly sinking into the material.

"You've got it mostly right, Crabcake,"

she started, one hand resting lightly on his head.

"but you ain't got all of it."

"What do you mean?" he started, and she shushed him with a finger. She snapped the fingers on her other hand, and she gestured for Skylla to join them.

"I think I've made it clear at this point," she drawled, "as well as in the past, that what Meenah wants, Meenah gets, yeah?"

Skylla seemed just a bit uncomfortable with the use of the Empress' given name, but climbed up on the huge futon to sit on her left side.

"I've made it clear that I don't gotta ask either?"

Karkat nodded, the gestured mirrored by his attache. It was an actual nod, not compelled, but you wouldn't know it to see it. Karkat grimaced. They must look like the worlds most poorly dressed synchronized swimmers, sans pool. The Empress giggled, and she looked down at the two of them, teeth showing.

"Cod you guppies are too fucking cute."

She paused, sipping at something alcoholic and expensive, then continued.

"Since i've proven I ain't gotta ask, Crabcakes it makes it mean more when I do. Like I ain't gonna ask if I ain't at least giving you a glubbin' oppor-tuna-ty to say no." She paused, lifting a finger to her lips, and seemed to be considering what to say next.

"Any-ray, you guys know there are orders you can refuse, and orders you can't. You wouldn't be in this shuttle if I didn't know that about the pair of ya."

Karkat exchanged a glance with his attache across the futon, and they both nodded. That seemed reasonable enough, and the Empress seemed to be explaining this for her own benefit. Between the two of them, they were both distinctly aware of what she was saying. It was a baked in assumption when dealing with someone like her.

They both jumped as the Empress slapped her face with her palm, sighing slightly.

"Cod you two are dense. What i'm asking ain't some military secret or some shit. I'm asking the two of you if you want to help me get myshellf off."

The Empress ran her hands through her hair, almost refusing to look at them.

"I'm gonna find whoever designed those tight fitting AAA uniforms and cull them myself,"

She groaned, sounding very much like Meenah, and less like the Empress of a pseudo religious state. Karkat took the comment in stride. It wasn't directed at him, after all. Skylla nearly leapt out of her seat.

"and don't think you're off scott free, Crabcake." snapped the Empress, shooting him a witheringly sarcastic glare.

"Cod, you've got my fucking symbol tattooed on your glubbin' body. Do you have any idea how hot that is?" With some apparent difficulty, the Empress regained herself, sitting up in her seat and staring them both down.

"This is one of those orders you can disobey." She said, shooting them a look that said she'd graciously avoid any retribution if they said no. "but i'd be shella disappointed if you did."

She looked them up and down one more time, not pleading, but her obvious bias ringing loud and clear.

"So what's it gonna be, buoy's and gills?"

==> Be Meenah Peixes

==> Be Karkat Vantas

[==> Be Skylla Koriga](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744726/chapters/34089132)


	2. ==> Be Skylla Koriga, Out of Your League.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're Skylla now, and holy shit this is not how you expected your day to go.

Skylla Koriga was reasonably sure she'd actually been hallucinating the last few hours. It was probably that damn vent in the hallway again.  That's what this was. One of the purples had decided that it would be funny to pump one of the harder types of Church incense into her living quarters. 

  
There was certainly no way in seven levels of tarnation that she'd just been propositioned by the Empress of all Trollkind. That didn't happen, not even in the most tawdry, stereotypical novels of the Great Alternian Plains. 

  
Not that she read such things. Nooooo sir. 

  
It especially didn't happen with her boss in the room. He was, as she reminded herself, strictly off limits. No matter how soft and pappable he seemed. No steamy pale/flushed vacillatory fantasies here. 

  
She shook her head, and shot her best attempt at a 'stealthy' sidelong glance his way. He gaped back at her, shrugging off her glance with the obvious turmoil he was experiencing in his own mind. 

  
Then she saw the Empress, who by all rights had just laid herself bare for them. 

  
She chuckled slightly at her clever play on words, but stopped. It wouldn't do to hurt anyone's feelings now, especially when they was being as honest as the Empress, even it if was unexpected. 

  
"Well," she started, still a bit flabbergasted.

"I reckon that would be okayy, if yyou don't mind my sayyin so."

  
Her words seemed to startle Karkat out of his reverie, and he stumbled over his own words in his hurry to get them out.    
The Empress had warned him, but it had been a bit tongue in cheek. Still, just like it did every time, the fact that he could spew profanity at a time like this had her gobsmacked. 

  
"Fuck me," he said, and she wasn't sure in which context he meant it. "Meenah gets whatever the fuck Meenah wants, right?"

  
The Empress gave him a look that said "no shit, Crabcake," but the fuchsia blush creeping out over jet black skin and down her throat took the teeth out of it, just a tad. 

  
Then the Empress turned back to her, and she saw Meenah looking out at her. This wasn't the Empress, though she still had her power available. This was the Empress doing her best to be approachable. 

  
"First off, bronzie," she started, not trying to be offensive "I need out of this damn skinsuit." 

  
The Empress looked at her apologetically, then shrugged. A hint of the monarch crept back into her voice for a second, taking any awkwardness out of her next question. 

  
"And tell me your name, gillfrond, I use so many glubbin' nicknames cause there's so fuckin' many of you."

  
Skylla laughed, but humored the Empress.

  
"Well I'm Skylla. Skylla Koriga" she said brightly, extending her hand by reflex, not really expecting the Empress to shake it. "I reckon it's a pleasure to meet yyou as well, Miss Meenah."

  
Meenah flushed with obvious pleasure at the continued use of her given name. Instead of shaking however, she took Skylla's hand in her own, guiding it down to the hip panel of her skinsuit, showing the bronzeblood by touch where the release catches fit into the black fabric.    
Skylla released it with almost no effort. She knew the location of every major control setting for every skinsuit manufactured in the last century. Regardless, the act was the most intimate thing anyone had ever done with her, and Skylla flushed a ruddy bronze as she remembered long sweeps practicing putting on and taking off skinsuits for every possible rank.

  
Except this one. 

  
Her hands were steady as they worked the seals, and the skintight garment soon came loose in her hands, rather than stretched tightly before. It bulged in the front, and Meenah looked at her shamelessly. 

  
"Skylla likes what she sees." Meenah said dryly pronouncing her name with infinite care. 

  
To her credit, Skylla had the gumption to not take such an obvious bait lying down. 

  
"I think Meenah likes what she sees," she observed, just as clinically, tracing the slightly flexible outline of what was frankly an enormous bulge.

  
Meenah shuddered, and Skylla gave her one last squeeze and set to work on the second set of seals. They opened just as easily, and she slid the skinsuit down over Meenah's legs.  It was just as big as she'd been expecting, and it writhed in time with Meenah's suddenly very heavy breathing. 

  
Skylla was starting to get a bit warm under her collar herself, and clinically speaking, she wasn't wearing no skinsuit. She'd be making a mess of herself in a few minutes if this kept up. Glancing up, she spared a look for her boss, who'd sat down, most likely at a nudge from Meenah. He was just a bit wild eyed, which was to be expected. Skylla had no idea how she was so calm about the whole thing, and she pushed inquiringly at Meenah with her thoughts.    
It didn't seem to do much, and she frowned on Karkat's behalf, wishing she could make him a bit more comfortable. 

  
Above her, Meenah let out a little noise of understanding, and Skylla looked up into her startling, fuchsia eyes. Still kneeling, she felt the Empress looking at her like she'd just won a million bucks.  Meenah made another noise, this one more of enjoyment, and the tip of her bulge beaded with a drop of fuchsia. 

  
"I know exactly what I want you to do right now, gillfrond." she murmured, the psionic rumble in her voice barely restrained. 

  
Skylla appreciated that, but frowned at the amusement entwined with Meenah's obvious arousal.

  
"I'm gonna sit here and take care of myshellf, gillfrond." She began, one hand already sliding down to the soft fuchsia coils between her legs. "I want you to get out of that uniform and go calm my little Crabcake down. I'll tell ya he's got all kinds of feelings running through his head, and he needs to shoooosh."

  
Those last four words were bleary with pleasure as Meenah began to tug and relax, fingers already soaked with slurry. It was too much, and in that single moment, Skylla completely ruined her pants. 

  
Then, just as quickly, she yelped, startling everyone in the room but Meenah. No one had moved, except for Meenah's slow, soft ministrations, but she'd felt it nonetheless. It was like a flat, sharp smack across the backside.   
Skylla felt her face heat, her bulge writhe, and nook clench as she realized what Meenah had done. The Empress confirmed it a moment later, a lazy, pleasurable smile spreading across her face.

  
"You save that flushed stuff for me, guppy. My Crabcake don't need none of that yet. He needs it nice, soft, and serendipitous."

  
Meenah still didn't move, but Skylla felt another warning slap across her rear end. 

"Don't you go disobeying that either, gillfrond, unless you want to be punished."

  
Skylla didn't know what she wanted. She was not exactly used to this sort of thing, and the promise of whatever the Empress meant when she said punish made her squirm in all kinds of ways. On the other hand, she'd pretty much been given an order to engage in the fantasy that had kept her up at night, and Meenah knew exactly what she'd done. 

  
Disrobing wouldn't make ignoring her aching nook any easier, and she tried and failed not to think about staining Karkat's nice white uniform a warm bronze.    
Knowing it would happen no matter what she did, Skylla still did her best to approach the situation head on, like some kind of charging hoofbeast. She slid her pants down, taking ruined underwear with them, and started toward Karkat. The fact that rivulets of bronze were literally running down her legs didn't help, but she did her best to ignore it.

  
Karkat seemed to be concentrating on the Empress, and almost didn't hear her approach. He felt her though, and she sank down beside him in the plush cushions.    
He turned and started to say something, but with one last look at Meenah, Skylla placed the flat of her hand against his face, running her thumb across his cheekbone. 

"Shooosh," she got out with just a touch of awkwardness, and he sagged like he'd been knocked upside the head.

  
Behind her, Meenah moaned without a trace of theatrics, just raw pleasure. Skylla indulged both the Empress and herself by running the knuckles of her hand across his cheek, another "Shoooosh" coming much more naturally now. Karkat reached for her, and his own touch to her cheeks was like the sharp prickle of Alternian dawn, minus the pain. He tried to pull her down, and she was vaguely aware of the spreading bronze stain on the thighs of his dress uniform.    
The thought made her bulge curl, spreading the stain even more, and she took a quick glance down, looking for any matching candy red. She just thought that maybe she saw some when she felt that harsh, sharp smack again. She cried out, sensitive and primed for pale touches, totally not expecting the switching she'd just earned.    


In a pale stupor himself, Karkat tried to make it better, and stroked his hand across her jaw. "Shooooooosh" he slurred drunkenly, and that didn't make the next sharp spank any easier. 

  
Between the two of them, they were like two bronze ranch hands after the harvest.

  
Skylla had never been one for that sort of party, but she knew what went on. This was almost too much, and her nook clenched as she felt another smack, this one accompanied with a touch of stern emotion.    
Meenah shifted slightly, lifting her off him with smooth ease the told her just how strong the Empress was. Skylla let it happen. She could just a soon walk out of her hive at high noon, bulge flapping in the wind as break Meenah's grip.    
Skylla allowed herself to be lifted up, then set down across Meenah's knees. Vaguely, she knew what was coming, and she could feel Meenah's bulge twisting around her own, working itself part of the way into her nook. There was no way she could fit the whole thing, of course, but she could feel the stretch.    
Still feeling muzzy and soft as all hell, Skylla could feel Karkat shifting, snuggling up to the Empress. Then, in an instant, it clicked.   


Holy shit. The Empress was unashamedly, completely, and head over heels red for him. 

  
Meenah nodded, stroking down the small of her back, slowly doing things to her bulge and nook that had her clenching the fabric of the futon and arching her back in what was almost too much pleasure.

  
"So what if I am." she said with a slight, pleasured hitch in her breathing. "He's mine, isn't he?"

  
Skylla shook her head, in one part disbelief and one part shock she hadn't noticed sooner. All the possessive touches, all the pet names. Meenah was candy red for Karkat, and...

  
She stopped, one hand flying to her mouth in shock.  He didn't know. Karkat didn't know.

  
"No he don't," confirmed Meenah, "And it's gonna stay that way. Understand, gillfrond?"

  
Skylla nodded quickly, but it didn't stop the sharp smack, this time delivered by hand .

  
"I've got him in three quads now, Skylla. Diamonds, Hearts, and Clubs. You made me have to step in as Clubs, you understand that, right? Trying to get all flushed with my Crabcake." 

  
Meenah rambled a bit, another sharp smack finding her other cheek, both starting to heat with bronze. 

  
"That means you got me in a quad now, guppy. Unless you object?"

  
Skylla thought for a moment. Did she object? After thinking about if for a moment more, she found that she didn't. Just this conversation alone had given her a brand new respect for the Empress, let alone the troll behind the title. She responded confidently, as best she from the rather...compromising position Meenah had her in. 

  
"I think I'm gonna be a lot happier with you in my Clubs, Meenah."

  
Meenah smiled, but didn't relent. 

 

"Good answer, gillfrond."

  
She struck again, this time across both cheeks and Skylla winced. 

  
"Now I aint said I'm not willing to share my Crabcake wit' you. You want the boy pale, that's fine by me."   


Meenah spent a few moments massaging Skylla, then smacked down again, harder and faster. 

  
Skylla cried out, and Meenah stopped, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

  
"I ain't gonna be around all the time, especially with you two on planet, watching my fuckin' Jadebloods. There ain't gonna be no vacillatory shit, but you don't exactly got to be super fucking orthodox either. Understand?"

  
"I reckon I understand, Meenah. Spell it out, though, for me?"

  
Skylla shuddered with delight, still being taken very good care of by Meenah's bulge, and the implication of what she was saying.   
"Heh, alright gillfrond. I'll talk dirty for ya'." 

  
Meenah pulled her up, sitting her up straight in her lap, and spreading her legs just a bit. Skylla whimpered slightly, but then sighed slightly in pleasure as she adjusted to even more of Meenah's enormous bulge.

"You two are gonna be moirails. I ain't got no issues with that, and if I'm making red official with him, he's gonna need a good 'rail. You two gonna be sharing a planet and a 'block for a good long while. You wanna fuck him while you're there? You got my fucking blessing gillfrond."

  
Meenah paused, shuddering, bulge writhing. Skylla just sat very still, enjoying it immensely, and very close to the point of no return. 

  
"Anyything else" she managed to get out, panting.

  
"Two things," Meenah replied, breath coming harder and faster now.

  
"First thing. When we get together, I ain't got no problem being ash for  you. Just cause we got real fucky quads going on don't mean I ain't gonna neglect you."    
They moaned together, feeling just how close Meenah was to bursting.

  
"That probablyy means that I get spanked for 'messing with Karkat' huh," Skylla quipped, still feeling the warmth suffusing the abused flesh of her ass.   


 

"Damn fucking straight it does, gillfrond."

  
Skylla wriggled slightly in excitement, the motion setting off small shocks of pleasure in her nook, and Meenah gasped. 

  
"Second. Thing." she managed, 

  
"We ain't done talkin' bout Karkat. I got him sleepin' now so we can hash this out. I ain't stepping on your claim to pale. I know serendipity when I see it. We gonna talk about why."

  
"Fair's fair," Skylla replied, grinding her hips down slightly. "I ain't got no arguments there, Meenah."    
They sat in silence for a moment more, broken only by ragged breathing. Finally, Skylla tilted her head back, grinning widely at Meenah.

  
"Ashes?" she questioned.

  
"Ashes." Meenah replied, and that was enough.

  
Meenah came first, a flood of fuchsia pouring into the bronzeblood. Second later, a burst of bronze drenched the half open jacket that Skylla still wore, and she painted herself with her own color to contrast the spray of fuchsia that had quickly escaped her nook. She was wearing the rarest color in the Empire, and Meenah smiled at her, flashing a mouthful of sharp fangs. 

  
"That is a good ass color on you, gillfrond. We gonna' have get you some of that to wear for reals."

  
Skylla smiled, wiping the bright fuschia out of her eyes. Frankly, she was drenched, and needed a shower. 

  
"I reckon if yyou want to get my bolo tie all colorful like Karkat's uniform, I wouldn't object."

  
"Mhm." Meenah agreed. "how you feel about tats, Skylla? My Karkat's got one right under that gold thread you know. It's the right color too."   
Skylla shook her head sleepily, but nodded. 

  
"I ain't got a problem with ink, Meenah. I do think I  could use a shower though. I don't quite think i'm complaining, but I am gettin' all stickyy here."   
"Please," Meenah snorted. 'you ain't think I got a bath?"

  
"Can't swim, Meenah, and I know anyything yyou're calling a bath is gonna be just a bit big for little old me."

  
Meenah thought for a minute, then stood, taking care to keep Karkat all bundled up in plush pillows. 

  
"Didn't realize I was in Ashes with a wriggler," she mocked "guess I'm gonna have to draw you a bath."

  
Meenah picked her up bodily, not with psionics, and carried her into the next room. She did it effortlessly, and Skylla could feel her putting on just the slightest bit of "Her Imperious Condescension." Not in a bad way, but in the way that someone puts on a happy face when they've just been very vulnerable for someone.    
Skylla just did her best to radiate that plucky bronzeblood confidence that she was famous for, and while Meenah didn't quite relax, her mood shifted away from quadrant based anxiety.    
Not that Skylla would ever call it that, or even think it. That wouldn't be fair to Meenah, Karkat, or herself. As it went, they were about the most fucked up set of quadrants she'd ever heard of.

  
It was like a bad rom-com.    
In which The Empress, who's in a multi-quadrant, unrequited pining Pale/Flushed Vacilitory affair with the Noble Mutant, places herself into a Auspisticism with the Plucky Lowblood who's in Flushed/Pale Vacillation with the Mutant while still remaining the Mutant's direct subordinate. The Empress then surrenders her Pale claim for a Flushed one thus solving both the Lowblood and the Empress' Vacilitory Dilemma

  
Skylla laughed out loud at that. It was so comical, so heretical, and so ridiculous that if it wasn't happening now, she'd have called it bad writing.    
Even Meenah snorted, and that made it okay.    


Meenah lowered herself into the water, bringing Skylla down into the frankly massive bath on top of her. The water was hot, but not burning, and Skylla relaxed, feeling the tension of their bizarre tryst waning.    
Meenah, to her credit, wasted no time, and began to wash Skylla's hair.

  
"Trust me gillfrond, slurry's a bitch to clean if you let that shit dry in your hair."

  
Skylla nodded, wincing as her hair pulled slightly. Meenah did seem like the type to know that, between her voluminous hair and the excess of slurry she'd produced just a few minutes ago. 

 

“That was a lot of slurry.” she ventured, trying to at least make small talk as Meenah ran a brush through her hair. 

 

“Please gillfrond, you ain’t seen nothing.” 

 

Meenah grinned, then pinched Skylla's still sore buttcheek.

  
“You know how many times I’ve had to take personal time with Crabcake roaming that damn ship?”   
  



	3. ==> Be Meenah Peixes, Romcom Heroine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does it have to be like this? Karkat Vantas has two hands?
> 
> In which what should have been a sex scene becomes a lengthy discussion of Karkat, Meenah, Skylla, and their fucked up quadrant dynamics.

Meenah Peixes smiled, looking at her sleeping lowbloods. They were curled into the palest pile she'd seen in sweeps. It was cute as hell, and if not for the slurry staining their clothing, totally fuckin' innocent.

The Bronzeblood, Skylla, was her Ashen partner. She'd agreed to the quadrant so that Meenah could keep her from getting her flushed mitts all over her Mutant. The fact that Skylla was pale/flushed vacillating for him had helped, and she seemed to be perfectly fine with their little arrangement. She was also drenched in a mixture of bronze and fuschia stains, and if she wasn't the prettiest thing this side of the fuckin' galaxy, Meenah didn't know what was.

Satisfied with her choice of an Ashen Partner, Meenah's gaze shifted to her other lowblood. Skylla had one arm curled possessively about his midriff, and Meenah could already see the effects a good papping was having on her Crabcake. That boy was the cutest shade of candy red Meenah had seen in sweeps. Thankfully, he'd lasted through adolescence, and the drones had brought him to her. There had been plans for a personal culling, but thankfully, it hadn't been necessary. Unlike certain other mutants in history, he was enthusiastically on her side; and damn good at his job as well.

She was also head over heels flushed for the loud ass, shouty little motherfucker.

She knew him, saw how he charged into his duties with reckless, devil may care abandon. He was sarcastic, irreverent, and pretty fuckin' cute to boot. Meenah made no secret of her possessiveness, and she was reasonably sure Karkat at least knew that she thought of him as 'hers.' She also knew that there was no way in hell he even suspected the depth of her feelings for him. Sharp as she was, Skylla had guessed it, but Meenah knew she'd let her tell Karkat in her own time.

That really should be in the next few hours. They still had quite a bit of transit time until they hit the planet, but to keep sitting here and pining was ridiculous. He was right there, and it wasn't like he would say no, after all. Meenah stopped for a moment, turning that thought over in her head like the prickly, unpleasant thing that it was. Karkat would do what she asked, and what was usually a commendable trait had her wrinkling her nose in distaste. Meenah was well aware of the fucked up power dynamics present in any relationship she was a part of by default. Just by virtue of who she was, the interactions she had with others were fraught with all kinds of expectations.

Skylla and Karkat belonged to her, and that wasn't just the mantra of someone who might get just a tad jealous, it was empirically true. She'd done her best to mitigate that, making it clear that she wanted them for who they were, but there was still that little, nagging uncertainty. It was almost nice. She hadn't been unsure of herself in quite literally millennia. She laughed to herself, draping an arm across the top of the couch and regarding them both fondly.

Karkat started to stir, and that woke Skylla. She froze for just a second, probably wondering where she was. Then she visibly relaxed, and sank down in the plush cushions once more. Karkat, for one, looked hella content. Meenah smirked, but, if she was being fair, it'd probably been a long, long time since that boy had felt anything even approaching a pale solicitation. To go right from 'solicitation' to 'emotionally charged papping' would have poleaxed anyone, and she couldn't blame him.

Meenah felt a laugh bubble up, and stifled the sound. Soon as those two got a real feels jam, he'd probably just become one with the pile, and never leave.

"Alright," she said, with just a bit of volume, "Time to get up, buoys and gills. We got shit to talk about, and not a ton of time to do it." Skylla opened one eye, and shot her a glance that said "I reckon yyou should probablyy just get on with it." Meenah glared back at her, but with no real malice. Skylla was her Auspice just as much as Meenah was hers. As it happened, Auspisticism did quite a bit of matchmaking, and Skylla's thoughts on the matter were clear.

"Oh hold your horses," she quipped, shooting her Auspice a dirty look. Skylla, bless her heart, had the audacity to blush.

Karkat finally finished waking up, and from the sound of things, he was feeling just a bit better. He hadn't been trying of course, but the frustration her lowblood captain had been putting of when she first showed up on the Tilt-a-Whirl had been palpable, even if she hadn't been an empath. Add in the stress of being told he was gonna be in charge, and he was just a bit strained.

"And," thought Meenah, "sharing quarters with Her Imperious Condescension, Empress of Alternia probably dinged about thirty alarm bells every time she moved." That wasn't her fault, but she couldn't help feeling just a bit guilty about it. She snorted, throwing a mental hand across her brow. She hadn't asked to be the top of the glubbin' food chain, after all.

Karkat flushed that beautiful color, looking like the most confused, pitiable thing in the universe.

"If you're done getting papped within an inch of your life," she said patiently. "I think we should start gettin' ourselves presentable. You got slurry on your uniform, and this room reeks of sex. It's just collateral damage from me and Skylla, but she makes almost as much of mess as I do."

That wasn't even close to true, but it had Karkat's cheeks blazing, which was the goal. Meenah felt her own color rise in her cheeks. He was so different her highbloods, and honestly, it was refreshing. He was dutiful where they were conniving, a prude where they were...not. He was small where they were large, and very outspoken, at least to others. He was the very soul of courtesy to her, of course, but she'd break him of that habit soon enough. If he was gonna be her eyes and ears in the area they were headed to, he'd have to get reel comfortable talking to her, reel quick.

He sat up, one hand finding Skylla's almost by instinct; as if that wasn't the cutest shit in the coddamn universe. Meenah had made sure he didn't quite remember her earlier proposition. He knew something had changed, and she'd left the idea of their new Ashen quad fairly front and center. Unless he really concentrated though, he wouldn't remember exactly how he and Skylla had made diamonds, at least not until she let him. It was a good memory, but his own, pale drunk involvment was just a bit steamy for someone who blushed at the minor innuendo of a few minutes ago.

Sure, he'd consented to it before they started filling quads, but he'd gotten a bit more than he bargained for as the third party of a shotgun Aupisticisim. Thankfully, the pale part of that whole thing was as wholesome as it came. Skylla had been vacillating, and Meenah had solved it. Karkat wouldn't know how she'd done so, but it had resulted in the three of them picking up an Ashen quad, and Karkat picking up a palemate. The details would be just a bit fuzzy, since just after Skylla had put him down for the count with her pale ministrations, Meenah had made sure he'd stayed that way, while she and Skylla got just a bit carried away.

She'd catch him up to speed once they sat down to talk, of course. She wasn't gonna start making any sort of flushed solicitations to someone who only had half the facts. That was like...the exact opposite of mitigating fucked up power dynamics. Meenah winced internally at that little reminder. Karkat had the right to say no to her in something like this, coddamnit.

Karkat fairly beamed. Meenah knew from experience how it could feel to get papped after a long time without a moirail. She'd not had the experience herself in a few hundred years, but she'd find somebody soon enough. For now, her thoughts were more running in a more concuspient direction.

"Hey Skylla, I got about thirty fuckin' bath bombs and shit," she started, voice just a bit loud in the 'morning.' "You wanna draw us all a bath, give me a few minutes with him?"

Skylla had the good graces not to say anything about the obvious bid for privacy. In fact, she gave Meenah an exaggerated wink, though at least Karkat couldn't see from the angle he was still reclined at. Meenah rolled her eyes. Skylla stood, releasing Karkat's hand with obvious regret. She walked over to the bathroom, and Meenah realized she was still in a state of at least some undress. Probably for the best that she leave the room before Karkat noticed. That might just melt the poor boy right here, right now.

Karkat rubbed his face sleepily, and Meenah could see him slipping the officer mask back in place. He sat up straight, for one, and tugged the open collar of his dress shirt back where it belonged. Cod if he saluted she wouldn't be able to contain her laughter.

"Relax, Crabcake," she said with a bubble of laughter, "There ain't no officers gonna bother you today."

He looked at her, eyes level, respectful, and totally, completely clueless.

Meenah started to reach out, to clap a hand on his shoulder, then stopped. That was a very possessive gesture. She wanted him to be comfortable with this discussion. "Listen, we gotta talk about somefin," she said, then paused, the earlier novelty of uncertainty wearing super fuckin' thin. "I got somefin to tell you, I mean."

Meenah groaned internally. He was sitting there, all prim, proper, and totally fake. She'd seen how he dealt with his crews. This was certainly not the short, nubby horned vortex of rage that captained her ships.

"First off, am I gonna have to order you to take the stick out of your waste chute? Like, if I have to order you to say 'fuck' I think you're doing both of us a disservice."

Karkat flushed at that, and Meenah softened. "Sorry, Crabcake. Not tryin' to be a raging bitch or anyfin. Any-ray. Do you know why I brought you along for this trip? Do your best to figure it out."

Karkat thought about it for a moment, then replied. "Well, I'm not a highblood, for one, and I bet you get as sick of dealing with them as much as we do."

"True," she conceded, "but not quite the answer I'm thinking of."

He paused again, considering his answer. "I'm pretty much the poster child of the Empire at this point. If you need a presence in the brooding caverns that screams 'Imperial' I'm pretty fuckin' sure I'm the best option."

He stopped, but didn't apologize for the cursing. It had probably slipped out, and Meenah shrugged. Progress was progress.

"Also true, but still just a bit off the mark." Meenah crossed her legs, sprawling out on the couch, and smiled down at him. "Aside from doing your fuckin' job like a pro, and bein' pretty much the Imperial Pretty Boy, I brought you along for one other reason."

His brow furrowed, and Meenah let him remember the majority of their conversation from the day before.

"What," he said incredulously. "for sex?"

"Oh coddammit," she replied, slapping a palm to her forehead "For quadrants, you dense motherfucker."

She said it with a laugh, but he still looked a little hurt and confused.

"For fuck's sake Karkat," she said, with just a tiny bit of exasperation" I'm red hearts, pail filling, head over six inch heels flushed for you."

He actually laughed.

She blinked in shock, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn't quite blame him. To have someone like her say something like that was comical. It just wasn't the sort of thing that one expected. It was true though, and the fact that she wasn't joining him in his sharp, harsh laughter took a few moments to get through to him.

Then, and bless his heart, he started panicking. Now, he had just laughed in the face of her flushed confession, she would give him that. Still, he did a pretty impressive job of freaking the fuck out. At least he sounded like himself. The escalating tirade of cursing, apologies, and every possible combination thereof was like a wave. The sound of it actually brought Skylla back into the room, and the concern on her face was evident.

"He laughed," Meenah said wryly, by way of explanation. "He thought I was joking."

The sight of his brand new moirail was not quite the calming influence it should have been, especially with the memories of the night before bouncing around in his lovable skull. "Karkat." Meenah said, with just the slightest touch of psionic power.

"Simmer the fuck down so we can talk about this like functional adults instead of adolescent wrigglers."

Sighing, she waved for Skylla to come back over and have a seat. She'd at least managed to find a robe, so she wasn't walking around with her nook hanging out. She sat up herself, withdrawing just a bit.

"Alright, Skylla." she said, doing her best to stay patient. "You wanna help me explain what's going on here?"

Karkat looked between the two of them, obviously confused as all hell. From the look of it, he knew two things. He knew that he'd ended up Ashen with the two of them, and pale with Skylla. Other than that, he looked nervous and lost, and just a bit pissed off.

Meenah nodded, still keeping her hands to herself. Things were moving awfully fast, and she didn't blame him for being a bit ticked off. "Well," Skylla started, "I figure it all started when yyou propositioned us."

"Follow along, Crabcake," Meenah said, unwilling to drop the pet name entirely. "I fucked this up, and went about ten times too fast."

"Yya seemed seemed a little out of it after that, boss," she started, and I can't sayy I blame yya. It took me byy surprise, and I've been shanghaied into a quadrant before, during culling season."

Skylla paused, remembering the night before, a bit of embarrassment coloring her face. "We both went for it with enthusiasm, but Meenah got to me first. She used all the psionic malarkyy to suss out that I had it bad for yyou, flushed and pale."

Karkat cut her off, raising one hand. "Wait, wait wait waitwait." When everyone stopped talking, he looked at them, eyes flashing with the look of someone who was getting more and more frustrated by the minute. "Okay, you tell me if I've got it right so far." he said with a touch of annoyance "You ended up in Diamonds with me? Cause I've been papped before, and we were going at it pretty fuckin' hard there, that much I do remember. How'd you go from vacillating to picking one?"

"Well, The Empress, Meenah I mean, could tell I was vacillating, and went all in on an Ashen solicitation."

Skylla looked apologetically at them both, but Meenah didn't say anything,

"She made it clear that we were better of pale, and then she proved it."

"That was when the pale shit started, yeah?" Karkat said, brows knit.

"Yyeah."

"So let me get this straight," he continued, turning to Meenah "You filled Ashes with me and Skylla, over the fact that she wants me in two fuckin' quadrants, and you don't want her to vacillate?"

Meenah nodded, chewing idly on her fingernails. It wasn't much, but it was an outward sign of worry, and she hadn't let something like that show in hundreds of years. She sighed, but waited Karkat waited for her to continue. 

"She's also competition," Meenah said, just a touch unwillingly. "She wants you in two quads, but I want you in one."

"I'm getting to that," he said snappishly, then raised a hand placatingly as he realized what he'd done.

"Nah Crabcake," she shot back, "That's fair. Keep talkin'."

"So by taking the two of us in Clubs, you were able to play Auspice matchmaker and keep Skylla from gettin' involved with me in the 'wrong' quadrant." He frowned. "Well that's fuckin' convuluted as shit."

Meenah nodded, and he laughed again, sharply, but without any real negativity behind it. "So I got a moirail out of it," he started, and turned to Skylla. "and that's okay. In fact, it's pretty fuckin' close to perfect if how I'm feeling now is any indication of compatability."

He held up two fingers, spread apart into half a diamond. Skylla did the same, looking content and happy. Meenah smiled, happy for the both of them, but Karkat had her nervous. He was acting like himself, which she wanted, but she also had just a touch of concern about what he had to say to her. "Next in our merry little romcom clusterfuck," he said, with just a hint of venom, "is this redrom confession."

Meenah waited patiently to see where he was taking all this. She'd said her piece, though she was starting to realize she hadn't exactly gone about it in the best way. Karkat didn't seem too happy about this whole situation, and she couldn't blame him.

"Now you explain to me," he continued "what in all that is fuck is going on."

Meenah had the grace to look just a bit sheepish, as much as such an expression was possible for her to make.

"Well it ain't the only reason I brought you along, if that's what you're thinking," she began. "I do need you two to do a job for me, and you're the best ones for it. That's all true, and I think you know it too."

Meenah ached to reach out, to throw a hand across his shoulder or ruffle his hair. She didn't though, respecting his personal space, and the frustration he must be feeling. She knew what she wanted. What mattered now was what he wanted.

"That don't change the fact that you've got my pusher pumping a hundred times a minute" she continued, "or that I'm blushin' like i'm 9 sweeps old and staring down the drones."

Karkat ran two frustrated hands through his hair, mussing it more than it already was. "It doesn't make one bit of sense," he groaned "Why us? Why me for that matter?"

Karkat nodded in Skylla's direction, gesticulating in a full blown rant.

"She makes sense. You take one look at her and you want her in some quadrant, regardless of what it is. But why red? What have I done that makes me ping your fuckin' radar as Karkat Vantas, flushed hunk of a troll?"

Meenah paused, considering it for a moment.

She knew how she felt, but exploring it was a little different. Finally, she settled on an answer. "You're fuckin' crazy, Crabcake." she held up one hand, "Let me finish. You take no shit from anybody, and you don't give a fuck who they are. The only person I've even seen you take orders from without having something to say is me, and frankly, I don't count."

Meenah smiled at him fondly. "You're cute as shit, and you just make me happy. Call it pity, call it love, call it whatever. You're willing to throw down when you need to throw down, but the ships you run are proof that you're a damn fine officer. You're pretty much everything I want in someone who has to deal with all kinds of highblood bullshit. I've heard how your subordinates talk. You're fair. Vulgar and prone to rant, but fair. I ain't had a matesprit in a long ass time, and I've finally found someone who's right. Somone who ain't gonna bow and scrape, but somebody how ain't an asshole either."

She looked at him, doing her best to show him what she meant.

"You're fit for a fucking Empress, Crabcake, but you're also fit for Meenah fucking Peixes."

"You're on my side already, Karkat," she finished, just a tad lamely. "Now I want you beside me."

Karkat looked at her, and she could see the competent commander that he was. For just a split second, he dropped the deference, the loyalty, and (if they were being honest with themselves) the ass kissing. He regarded her levelly, looking for any sign of insincerity, for any games, and then, seemed to realize that she meant every word.

"So all the pet names, and the touching..." he began, and she nodded,

"It was all just really bad flirting, yeah." she said, self deprecatingly.

They both knew that if she'd have done it any differently, it would have come across way more domineering than it already had.

"Well," Karkat said, with his hands on his hips and with a magnimonius eyeroll, "since all trollkind belongs to Her Imperious Condescension, I suppose we need some way to differentiate our romcom clusterfuck."

He grinned warmly, having apparently made a decision. He extended one hand to Skylla, half diamond. He extended the other to her, fingers curled into half a heart. Meenah grinned back, matching his symbol.

"But seriously," he said, letting the happy mood wane for just a second.

"That was a good ass speech, and it saved this fuckin' quad. You gotta be more careful with shit like that, Meenah."

She nodded, in full agreement with the statement. That had been way to fucking touch and go. 

"I love you," he continued, almost to himself. "I love the way you treat the Fleet. For the most part, once you get off planet, it's not a bad gig." He winced. "On planet sucks, but the system actually fuckin' works once you get into space."

Karkat paused, looking at her again, and Meenah wasn't quite sure what to expect.

"You're the kinda troll I can follow, your Majesty," he said, and pressed his half heart against hers. "but I won't forget Meenah Peixes either."

Then, he gave her an absolutely wicked look, and she grinned toothily in response.

"I think," he said, "you said something about filling a fucking pail?"

"You best be careful, buoy," she replied devilishy, "You're mine, remember?"

His eyes grew wide, and she stood, beckoning them both.

"Whatchu think, Skylla? You think he needs a little punishment for that mouth?"

Skylla looked up at her, and her drawl was just a bit smug as she answered.

"I reckon he does, Miss Meenah, I reckon he does."


End file.
